Profess Your Love to Me
by CastielLovesDean
Summary: "I'm not an Angel anymore. I'm your new God – a better one. So, you will bow down and profess your love to me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you." At the end of season 6, 'Lord' Castiel enslaves Dean and Sam for his personal pleasure. Pairings: Cas/Dean (mostly), Cas/Sam, Cas/Dean/Sam WARNINGS: Evil!Cas, noncon, sexual slavery, slash(of course), hurt/comfort
1. Chapter 1

**Profess Your Love to Me, Chapter 01**

_By CastielLovesDean_

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_***Spoilers for Season 6 Finale!***_

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"_I'm not an Angel anymore. I'm your new God – a better one. So, you will bow down and profess your love to me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you." - Castiel, 6x22 The Man Who Knew Too Much_

_WARNINGS: Evil!Cas, noncon, sexual slavery, slash(of course), hurt/comfort_

_Pairings: Cas/Dean (mostly), Cas/Sam, Cas/Dean/Sam_

_Summary: 'Lord' Castiel enslaves Dean and Sam for his personal pleasure. Come on, like that wouldn't be your first act if you became a god/goddess. It'd be mine ^_^_

_A/N: "You will bow down and profess your love to me," was really slashy. Like, really really slashy. I mean, I get that it's a common theme for gods to want/demand to be worshiped, but I couldn't help myself. That, and I'm a depraved individual. Just so you know, I'm still working on Cas's Logical Suggestion and A Brand on the Soul, so future chapters will be slow-coming until further notice._

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><p>"I'm not an Angel anymore," Castiel revealed as Sam, Dean, and Bobby watched in horror. "I'm your new God – a better one. So, you will bow down and profess your love to me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you."<p>

Sam and Bobby exchanged fearful looks as Dean stared mournfully at Castiel. Before long, Bobby cautiously sank to one knee and bowed his head. Sam looked ready to follow suit, but Dean stopped him. "Don't bow to him," he ordered the others. "'Thou shalt not worship false gods,' right? What's that, like, the fifth commandment?"

"I think it's actually the first two," Sam corrected him.

"What, are you idjits suddenly findin' religion?" Bobby growled. "Don't be stupid; get on the floor. It ain't worth it."

Castiel turned to face Dean, irritation flitting across his face. "Bow to me. Now."

"No," Dean refused.

Sam wavered. While he agreed with Bobby that it wasn't worth fighting Castiel, he felt loyal to Dean. He stayed on his feet.

"You see," Dean continued with the most badass expression in his repertoire, "we're not bowers. We're Winchesters. And I don't care how many souls you've eaten or how much power you have – I will not bow, kneel, or otherwise submit to some tax accountant on steroids."

Irritation morphed into contempt as Castiel sneered at Dean. "I grow weary of your insolence. You've long claimed to be my friend, my family, yet you treated me like a servant. You're disrespectful, arrogant, and bossy."

"Oh come on, man," Sam interrupted with a nervous laugh in an attempt to diffuse the situation, "Dean's like that to everybody. You can't take it personally; you just have to throw his attitude back in his face."

"Thank you for the suggestion, Sam, but I think I'll handle him my own way."

Suddenly, they were somewhere they'd never been before. Looking around, all they saw were plain white walls and a queen-sized bed with black sheets. There were no windows, doors, or light fixtures in the small room, yet there was light. "What the Hell?" Dean demanded angrily. "Where have you taken us?"

"Where's Bobby?" Sam inquired respectfully.

Castiel ignored Dean's impudent demands but answered Sam. "Bobby Singer obeyed my command and will remain unharmed."

"What about Sam?" Dean asked.

Cas looked at him for a moment without responding, judging the tone of Dean's voice and the expression on his face. Finally, he said simply, "Sam did not obey me."

Dean stepped between Sam and Castiel as if he could protect his brother from the ex-Angel. "What does that mean?" he pleaded tearfully. "What're you gonna do to him?"

"Nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you. It is in your best interest to start becoming accustomed to submitting to me."

"Like Hell I am."

"Dean," Sam pleaded, "I think maybe you should do what he says."

"Really, Sam? First Bobby, now you? What's the line? 'Et tu, Sammy?'"

"Fine. Be a stubborn jerk if you think you can stop him from doing whatever he plans to us."

"Better a stubborn jerk than a passive bitch."

"Fear not, Sam," Castiel soothed. "I'll change his attitude." He locked eyes with Dean. "Dean, remove your clothes and lie on the bed."

Sam and Dean were both obviously shocked at Castiel's first command, but while Sam feared for his brother, Dean was angry and indignant. "Excuse me?" he demanded.

"You heard me. If I have to remove your clothes, you're not getting them back."

"It's not happening, jackass."

"If you insist."

In the blink of an eye, Dean's attire changed. In contrast to his customary modest fashion sense, all he was wearing was a large loincloth and a heavy collar. He gasped in fury and humiliation as he touched the thick metal around his neck. "What the Hell, Cas!" The next thing he knew, Castiel was using a short chain to pull him toward the bed, and no amount of pulling back or dragging his feet was going to stop the superpowered angel.

"Cas, don't do this," Sam urgently beseeched on Dean's behalf. "Please, I'm begging you, man. Dean's a jerk, I know, but he's a good jerk. He doesn't deserve this. And he'll bow and profess whatever you want. Tell him, Dean."

"No freaking way!"

"Dean, he's not bluffing!"

"And I'm not bowing!" Dean was manhandled onto his back on the springy mattress. "Get off of me!" he bellowed as Castiel pinned his hands above his head.

"It doesn't surprise me that you remain combative. I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this, but I suppose it was inevitable."

"Resort to wha-aaaaaagh!" Dean cried out in agony as Castiel's left hand ground the bones in his right forearm together, snapping them like twigs. As he arched on the bed, writhing in pain, Cas used his right hand to push him back down against the bed, using more and more force until he felt the pop-pop-pop of Dean's ribs cracking. Dean groaned harshly and struggled for breath, attempts at fighting off Castiel forgotten as fighting the pain became more important. When Cas shifted from straddling him to kneeling between his legs, he tried to kick out in a panic, but to no avail; after all, Cas was _between_ his legs, not in front of them. "Wait," Dean ground out. "What ever happened to Free Will? God wants me to have Free Will, and this is against my will."

"I am not taking your will from you Dean; I am merely ignoring it. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but in time, you will learn to obey me." Cas undid his belt and fly.

"But it doesn't have to be like this. It doesn't. We can talk about this, work it out."

"It's too late for that."

"Cas, don't," Sam implored one last time. "It's not too late! If you do this, Dean'll never forgive you! You can never go back to how it was!"

With a minute flick of the wrist, Castiel had Sam gagged and handcuffed to the floor across the room. The scraping of metal and muffled pleas were much less bothersome and distracting than having the giant yammering in his ear. He returned his attention to Dean, who for a moment looked more concerned for himself than Sam... until he remembered what was going on. Dean protested and wriggled further as Castiel took himself out of his pants and stroked his member a few times to give it the necessary rigidity for penetration, but the man's cries fell on deaf ears. Cas leaned over Dean, who was thrashing wildly by then, and swiftly buried himself deep inside the mortal.

Dean screamed bloody murder.

Cas pulled mostly out and thrust in again, and again, and again, earning a handful of excruciating cries not unlike those that filled the caverns of Hell. As he settled into a rhythm over Dean's prone, damaged body, Cas whispered into his ear, "I know it hurts, Dean. Take comfort that I'll heal you when this is over." He kept track of how long it took for Dean to stop fighting him: almost twenty-five minutes. Cas was impressed; he'd seen some of the worst acts of humanity, and in Dean's situation, most people give up in less than five.

Cas started to really relish having Dean's body after the man gave in, releasing his wrists so that he could caress Dean's many toned muscles. He took his time running his hands up and down Dean's arms and thighs. He tasted the sweat on Dean's neck and collarbone. He caressed his abdomen and chest, taking a moment to circle his anti-possession tattoo and plant a sensuous kiss in the middle of the pentagram. He glanced at Dean's face before he viciously pinched a pert nipple. Dean yelped in response, his hands instinctively flying to his chest to protect the nipple. Castiel sighed as he pinned Dean's hands back above his head, regretting the loss of a hand. It didn't matter as he was on the precipice of release, which came as Castiel bit down on Dean's other nipple, eliciting a keening, terrible whine. He pushed as far into Dean as he could as he came, drawing blood with his teeth as he filled Dean with his seed. After the last wave of his orgasm, Castiel pulled his face away from Dean's sweaty, shivering body so he could look the man in the eye. "Are you prepared to serve me now, Dean?" he asked.

Dean opened his eyes and met his gaze. After several seconds, the hunter took as deep of a breath as he could manage and spit in Castiel's face. He received a sharp, disorienting backhand to the face for his efforts. When Cas pulled out, stood up, and started to walk away, and Dean noticed that he was still in a lot of pain, Dean yelled, "Where are you going? You said you'd heal me!"

Castiel turned and coldly scrutinized Dean. "Your injuries are not life-threatening. I will not let you die, but you will have to earn the privilege of a pain-free existence." He turned back around.

Dean panted to catch his breath and glared daggers at Castiel's back as the god approached Sam. "I swear to God," Dean vowed angrily, "the _real _God – if you touch a hair on his head-"

Castiel snapped his fingers, and Dean slumped on the bed, unconscious. He turned his attention to Sam, whose face was puffy and tear-stained. "Sam. I understand your desire to protect and be loyal to Dean. I even respect it. So let me be clear: if you show to me that you can be obedient to me, I will let you go. I tell you this because you're more reasonable than your brother, and your fate does not need to be the same as his." Cas removed Sam's gag in anticipation of a response.

Sam sniffled forlornly. "And will you let Dean go? If he obeys you, I mean?"

"No. There are comforts he can earn through submission and repentance, but freedom is not one of them."

"I can't leave him alone," Sam lamented as more tears rolled down his cheeks.

"You two wish to stay together."

"Of course."

"Then you'll remain separate until you both earn the privilege of each other's company." Castiel waved his hand, creating a wall separating them from the bed Dean was still lying on. An identical bed appeared in a corner opposite the new wall, and Sam's bonds disappeared.

Sam leapt to his feet and dashed for the wall. He pushed and pounded on it, but to no avail. He spun around. "Please," he begged, falling to his knees and clasping his hands together. "Please, let me be with him." Tears formed in his eyes; a few escaped. "He needs me. After what y-" He stopped himself short, not wanting to anger Castiel by accusing him of anything. "After what happened," he continued, "he needs me, my support. He can't handle this on his own. You don't know him like I do."

"That's where you're wrong, Sam. I know him very well. You might think that your support would help him, but you would be wrong. Without you, he'll break sooner. Once he's broken, his life will be much easier. You must understand: you would only prolong his suffering."

Sam shook his head, but didn't argue further. "Please," he pressed him again with a pitiful sob, hoping to appeal to Castiel's lost human side.

"No." Castiel left to tend to important business, only to return the next morning.

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><p><em>To be continued.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**Profess Your Love to Me, Chapter 02**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_Dedication: Mz Luna Potter. __ u/2615981/__ She inspired me to update. Probably never would have without her. Thanks!_

_Pairings: Castiel/Dean, some Castiel/Sam (this chapter only)_

_Warnings: NONCON! This is still one big rapefest. Don't like, don't read. Though based on the reviews and story alerts, plenty of you dirty, dirty pervs like. (Yay.) Also, I'm not quick with the updating. Unless you consider 2 years between chapters to be quick. I'm very sorry._

_A/N: As an author, I vastly prefer happy endings. I don't like sad endings. So despite the subject matter, I'm going to do my best at a happy ending in chapter 5. It will probably be more like bittersweet._

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><p>"Come here."<p>

Dean stirred in his slumber, then slowly blinked open his eyes, wincing as the pain came back to him. He coddled his broken arm as he glanced confusedly around the room, trying to remember how he got there. He saw Castiel, and the memories came flooding back.

Castiel repeated, "Come here."

Dean leveled his most fearsome scowl at Castiel and snarled, "Bite me."

"I said, 'Come here.'"

"Yeah," Dean acknowledged, scooting off the bed on the side opposite Castiel. He stood with his back to the corner, the farthest he could get from Cas. "And I said, 'Bite me.'"

"You know you can't defeat me in a fight."

Dean knew that. He also knew Cas should know he wasn't the type to give up. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna make it easy for you."

"It would make it easier on you, as well."

"I guess I'll never know."

"This is your last warning, Dean. Don't make me hurt you."

"Why not? You clearly enjoy it."

"I don't enjoy it, Dean. Your suffering pains me greatly. I look forward to the day you stop resisting me so we can be happy together."

"You really are a whackjob, aren't ya?"

"What do you mean?" Cas asked innocently, cocking his head.

Dean was dumbfounded. "What do I...?" he sputtered in shock and anger, still favoring his broken forearm and ribs. "You really think we're just gonna live happily ever after even though you've tortured me? And _raped _me? And imprisoned my brother?"

"You're the one who knows you can't beat me in a fight but refuse to give up. Wouldn't you call that insane?"

"I call it stubborn, and it's gotten me through worse situations than this."

"I can assure you it won't help you here. Obey me, or suffer."

"I think we both know my answer to that."

Cas sighed a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, we do." In the blink of an eye, he was face-to-face with Dean. He slammed him hard into the wall, cracking the drywall and almost Dean's skull. Then he punched the larger man hard in the stomach, mercifully avoiding his broken ribs, but winding him nonetheless. He threw Dean toward the bed.

Dean did his best to avoid landing on top of the bed, but he just made matters worse as he ended up bent over the side of the bed, aching ribs digging into the edge of the mattress. Before he could move out of the compromising position, Castiel was kneeling behind him on the floor, holding him in place. He uselessly batted at Castiel with his good hand, only to have it twisted painfully behind his back.

"Give me a good reason not to break your other arm," Cas demanded.

Dean could scarcely breathe, what with his broken ribs and the total pain he was in. Still, he managed to get just enough air to snidely suggest, "There's no sport in raping a guy with _two_ broken arms?"

"Fair enough," Cas agreed, though he kept Dean's arm pinned unnaturally. He knelt on Dean's left ankle with more and more force until he felt all seven bones of his ankle crack and crunch under the pressure and Dean howled from the pain. "Better?" Cas asked.

Dean didn't respond; he was unable to catch his breath this time. He wasn't anywhere near ready when Cas penetrated him the second time. Every part of his body burned or throbbed with the intrusion as Castiel slowly, deliberately entered Dean. He tried to scream, but he had not truly recovered from the destruction of his ankle, and there was no air left in his lungs to make any sort of noise at all. For a long time, nothing filled the silence but the sound of Castiel grunting in his ear perfectly in time with the rhythmic sloshing his cock made as it went in and out of Dean over and over and over.

A wave of dizziness hit Dean, possibly from the pain or the violation, but more likely from the fact that he had not taken a single breath since Cas had broken his ankle. At some point, while Dean was waiting to pass out, hoping for it, his fractured mind put together a terrifying thought: that he had gone longer than humanly possible without oxygen, and so Castiel must have been actively keeping him awake to ensure that he would experience every horrific second of this torture. As much as Dean longed for it, there was no glorious unconsciousness to which he could escape.

Eventually, Cas let go of Dean's arm. Dean could have used it to make symbolic resistance, but he knew it would do absolutely no good and would likely make the situation worse. Instead, he just grabbed a fistful of blanket and held on as if his life depended on it.

Burying your face in a blanket while someone tortures you has a way of obscuring the passage of time, and without a clock, Dean had no way of knowing how long Castiel raped him. But when he finally finished, he just pulled out and left without a word. Dean realized at that point that he'd been subconsciously expecting Cas would at least heal his injuries before he left. Dean gingerly pushed himself just a couple inches from the bed to give his damaged ribs space to expand. Cautiously, he took as deep of a breath as he could. Not breathing for... well, a long time... made his lungs feel like they were on fire, but finally finding some air made it worse before it was better. He sobbed out loud both from the pain and from the relief.

With great effort, he hauled himself up onto the bed and curled into a tiny ball. He covered himself as much as he could with the loincloth he was wearing because dragging the blanket over himself would take more energy and not-being-in-pain than he currently had, and he fell into a fitful, restless sleep.

ACDCACDCACD

"Come here."

Startled, Sam looked up at Cas from where he'd been crying on the bed. It took a couple seconds to register in his forlorn mind, but soon enough, he obediently stood and walked up to Castiel. Dean's muffled sobs echoed through the wall opposite the bed.

"Kneel."

Sam knelt, still sniffling.

Castiel cupped his chin gently and asked, as if he cared, "Why are you crying?"

Sam took a trembling breath. "Because I can hear everything that happens to Dean. It's always been me and him, and, uh, he's always protected me. I just..." His voice cracked, and he had to talk through his tears. "I hear the pain he's in, and I just wanna help him, but I can't." He cried softly at Castiel's feet.

"Would you prefer not to be able to hear him?"

"No!" Sam startled himself. "No, I'd rather hear him in pain than not at all," he explained. "At least then I know when he's _not_ in pain. If I couldn't hear him, I'd be worried all the time."

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"Not really."

"It's your turn to prove your obedience."

Sam nodded. He'd figured it was something like that. He cringed at the thought that Cas might do to him the things he'd done to Dean, but then Sam had every intention of doing what Castiel wanted, regardless of how desperately he'd prefer not to. "What do you want me to do?"

"Take off your shirt."

Sam took off his shirt and set it aside.

Castiel started walking lazily around Sam in a circle, appreciating his ripped physique. "I've always preferred Dean over you in most ways," Cas admitted to no surprise to Sam at all. "However, while Dean's face and personality are unarguably better than yours, you have much prettier musculature than he does."

_Um... thanks?_ Sam didn't know how to respond, so he kept quiet.

Castiel wound up in front of Sam again. "I want you to use your mouth."

Sam figured that simple, non-sexual orders had been too much to hope for. "You want a _blow job_?" he confirmed. Cas could be clueless, after all. Best to make sure.

"Yes."

Nausea bubbled up in the pit of Sam's stomach. He gulped reflexively and wiped the remaining tears from his face before reaching up to undo Castiel's fly. But then he stopped himself to ask, "You... cleaned yourself, right? I mean, after... Dean?"

"Would that affect whether or not you obey me?"

"No, but the thought of... I mean, it would just help to know that it's clean."

"It's clean," Castiel assured him patiently.

"Thank you," Sam mumbled after a contemplative beat. He meant it, too. As much as he didn't want to be forced into oral or any other kind of sex, it would have been exponentially more disgusting to have the byproduct of Dean's rape end up in his mouth. Cas didn't have to avoid that, but he did.

Sam picked up where he left off. Even though his instinct was to delay the inevitable for as long as he could, he went against that instinct, figuring that the quicker he got this over with, the better. Besides, a few more seconds wouldn't allow him to be any more ready for this and would only prolong his horror. He reached into Castiel's underwear and pulled out his limp penis. It was, indeed, clean. Sam would have been more relieved if he wasn't so wrapped up in dreading what came next.

He paused to figure out how to proceed. He thought back on blow jobs he'd received, but was always hard with anticipation by the time he was this far along. No coaxing necessary. Of course, since Castiel wasn't actually interested in him and was only doing this on principle, he supposed the whole situation was a bit clinical for Castiel.

Of course, Sam was the one about to have a penis in his mouth, so it wasn't clinical for him. _Like ripping off a band-aid,_ he thought. He grabbed Castiel's member and enveloped it in his mouth in one swift motion. It twitched right away, and Sam thought he might vomit. He kept his cool, though, and methodically sucked on and swallowed around it. It didn't taste as nasty as he'd expected, which was a mild source of solace for him. Aside from the gradual swelling of Cas's member, Cas had no appreciable reaction. Sam told himself it was worth it as he continued to suck off the Angel-turned-god, and a couple errant tears only escaped at the end as Castiel came without warning. Cas grabbed Sam's hair as he shot his load into Sam's mouth, forcing him to swallow it or choke on it.

Sam choked a little anyways. Once Castiel let go of his hair and pulled out of his mouth, Sam started coughing and dry heaving. Semen dripped out of his nose. Sam was more disgusted than he'd been in a long time as he wiped it on his previously discarded shirt.

Cas was completely put back together when he patted Sam gently on his head and approvingly said, "Well done, Sam."

Sam thought that might have been the most condescending praise anyone had ever been given for a blow job. Still, it was better than what might have happened if he'd done it wrong. Castiel was gone then, and Sam hadn't even had the chance to ask about Dean or if he could have some mouthwash. And a sink. He stood up and had to pick an errant pubic hair out of his teeth. He curled up on the bed and thought about Dean some more. He couldn't hear him through the wall and surmised that he must have stopped crying. Thank goodness for small favors. Hopefully, he'd feel a little better in the morning.

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><p><em>AN: I actually had to do research for this, so... be grateful. Yeah. Reviews?_


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